Am I Human?
by Exiled By Choice
Summary: The Glorious Evolution marched to war, only to nearly drive the free people of Valoran to the brink of extinction. But the men and women of a united world, they were able to drive their foe back and bring about complete victory. Ten years have passed since the last blow fell, and a new threat have emerged, one which will change the world forever.


_I greet you reader. I have for a long time been absent from Fanfiction and feel very rusty regarding writing for an audience. This will be the prologue chapter of a fanfic I have long planned to write. But up until now I have not been able to write it due to lack of time/motivation and the sort. However, I am glad you clicked on this story, and I shall not delay you any further. I hope you enjoy this little prologue, and I hope to hear any and all critics. Happy reading!_

 **Am I Human?**

A world in chaos, a world torn apart by war between flesh and machine, a world without hope. This is what Valoran have come to when the Glorious Evolution set their sights on those with flesh and bone. The march of the Machines echoed a new era, the war forced the inhabitants of the world to adapt to the new threats against the innocents. Nations united, old rivalries set aside to fight the encroaching threat of the Machines, but it was not without its own cost, the Machines left cities burning in their wake, countless people harvested by the ever growing swarm of endless mechanized horrors.

The population of the world went to ground, tunnels deep beneath the earth was their refuge as brave soldiers and warriors battled the rampaging Machines on the surface. There was no retreat, no surrender, as retreat meant certain death, and surrender was not any different.

Many heroes fell to the blades, canons and even the metallic teeth of the Machines, but many arose from the ashes to take their place on the frontlines.

However, this is but memories for the ones who survived, the ones who lived to tell the tale of their victory over the Glorious Evolution. Nobody knew what became of the Machine Herald, but the ones who live today know he will one day return.

 **Ten Years later.**

The alarm clock echoed throughout the bedroom of the detective, a loud groan rumbled from beneath the covers of the bed, it was still dark outside, early in the morning, too early for some but for the detective this was routine. Those glittering green eyes flickered to life as she reached to kill the echoing alarm, she hoisted herself from her slumbering position to finding her seat on the edge of the bed. The mirror on the closet provided her with a view of herself, her eyes lifted to gaze upon her mirror image, a lengthy sigh slipped from her lips as those green orbs found themselves trailing over the a photograph on her nightstand.

She was not always alone, her beloved who once fought by her side against the Machines many years ago fell while protecting hundreds of fleeing civilians. She reached out with a trembling hand, watery eyes already forming, the moisture slipped past her tearducts as her fingertip trailed along the face of the tanned silver haired woman she once held so dear.

 _"Wish you were here."_

There was no time to weep however, it was time to work and she knew something big was going on. But ten years have passed since the gruesome war ended, ten years of agonizing longing and lenghty restless nights. And those long nights did not seem to end, even after all these years.

The detective provided herself with a steaming hot shower, cleansing herself of the sweat from the nightmare induced nights she was plagued with. There would be no rest for the one who held the peace, nor could she mourn the ones whom was lost in service, the life of a peacekeeper and the protector of the people was a short one, but she have survived against all odds. She have after all, always been a survivor.

The closet flung wide open, revealing the wide array of uniforms, private clothings and at last, her old uniform she doned during the war. It was a relic of the past, but she kept it around to remember, becaue if the past was left behind, the sacrifices forgotten, the ones who survived would not deserve their future. She will always remember, her beloved deserves that much, she did after all weep over an empty grave.

She clad herself in a suitable attire, being a detective did require her to dress to mingle with the populace, to not cause suspicion whenever she visited a shady pub or the underground crime infested slums. But her clothings could not conceal the augmented arm, the former soldier gazed upon her replaced limb as she clenched the mechanical fist. Another memory of a loss, the loss of her arm during the war, her first replacement was not as elegant and clean as this one, as she remember the agonizing pain when they amputated her unrecoverable arm from underneath bonecrushing debris. A most painful experience.

The detective whipped out her hand, extended the length of her arm as the metalic limb's servos kicked into gear and a dim light illuminated from the palm of her hand. She inhaled a deeply, as above the empty bed, a hatch unlocked itself on the lonely wall, and out hovered four razorsharp blades, elegant and shaped with the purpose to slice and stab. Her entire arm was constructed to control the four deadly blades, and with a flick of her wrist, they sheathed themselves in four hidden and secured pockets within her coat.

Slowly, she adorned herself the coat, feeling not the weight of the blades as they are near weightless. The detective retrieved her side arm and her badge from the nightstand, glancing down at the golden sigil of her organization. She grazed over the symbol with a near affectionate touch, it was the symbol of the former Resistance when the war against the Machines raged on, and now had become the world's peacekeeping and police force.

She recalled the time she spent wearing this symbol during the war, side by side with the love of her life. There was a time when things were different, when she could awaken in the morning, to find the woman she cared for so much by her side. But when the war broke out, everything changed.

Remembering that fateful night when her beloved caught the attention of a Cho'Gath class Destroyer, drawing it away from the masses of fleeing refugees, only to get caught in the mechanical monstrosity's enormous barrage of weapon's fire. No body was found in the wreckage of the crumbled building, and not even any remains inside the bowels of the downed Machine after the reinforcing forces took it down. The Cho'Gath class did have a nasty habit with eating their victims whole.

All she really wanted now was to have her lover by her side, they say time heal all wounds, but this one will linger until her death takes her. Of that, she was certain.

The detective trailed her delicate thumb over the engraved name on her badge. It was a name known to all, and nobody could deny her capabilities nor disrespect her accomplishments. She's the last of her family's name, the last child of Ionia's greatest family. Her name? She is the one and only.

 _Irelia Lito._


End file.
